Bridges Crossed
by theatrchy2004
Summary: Post-Wicked. Booksical. Glinda and Elphaba are both left with very big decisions that will forever effect the rest of their lives. Fiyeraba, Flinda, a little bit of Gloq, and some other unexpected pairings....
1. Prologue

Title: Bridges Crossed

Author: theatrchy2004

Warnings: Possible hankie warning, if you're prone to that

Disclaimer: I own nothing, though I hold to it that I AM a Gelphie love-child.

Notes: Booksical. Mainly musical, though with book things worked in, including the Mauntery. Some important points would be...Dr. Dillamond died mysteriously at Shiz, as in the book. Boq was never turned into the Tinman and his character adheres more closely to Book-Boq. Nessa had arms, but was the religious zealot she was in the book. Frex is a Unionist minister as opposed to governor, and is alive at the end of _Wicked_.

* * *

She was finally alone now. The Wizard and that precocious little girl were off to Oz-knew-where, Morrible was imprisoned, and the others… Glinda finally let her tears fall, the tears she'd been holding in since that night at Kiamo Ko when she'd watched from the shadows as her Elphie died. Elphaba, her strength, and Fiyero, her love, both gone. Yes, she was truly alone now.

The door creaked behind her. Glinda attempted to regain her composure. When she saw that it was Chistery, she relaxed.

"Chistery," she barely choked out.

The Monkey hobbled over to the sorceress with a tray. "I b-brought…you... t-tea." He stuttered out.

Glinda allowed a small smile. "Thank you, Chistery." She took the tray from him and placed it on the table. "Your speech is getting much better."

"Thank you, Miss Glinda." He waited patiently for further instructions. An awkward silence fell over the suite.

"I'd like to be alone now," the blonde sniffled.

"Yes, Miss Glinda." Chistery nodded and made his way to the door.

Glinda turned her gaze out to the window, waiting until she heard the door click behind Chistery before resuming her grieving.

It was a dark night, even with the lights of the Emerald City glowing below the Palace tower to celebrate the demise of the Wicked Witch of the West. Glinda stood up and made her way to the window, observing the festivities below.

"Oh, Elphie," she sobbed. With shaking hands, she struck a match and lit three candles in the window; one for Elphie, one for Fiyero, and one for the child growing inside her. Fiyero's child. It was all she had left.

She couldn't take it anymore. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, her body, wracked with sobs. How was she going to raise a child? Sure, she had dreamed of having children with Fiyero, but that dream had involved him being there with her through it all. She wasn't strong enough, she never had been was. She'd always had Elphaba or Fiyero there to hold her up. And now? Now she was the acting ruler of Oz! Her! Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands! A simple country girl with delusions of grandeur. Oh, but those delusions were now fact. She'd risen to the upper echelons of society. "Glinda the Good" they called her.

_I'm not good. I never was, _she thought. _Oh Elphie, how did this happen? _The blonde sniffled and wiped her tears away as best she could. She rose up from her spot under the window sill and staggered over to her bed.

When Chistery returned to check on his mistress, he found her fast asleep on top of her covers, clutching to her the Grimmerie and the mysterious green bottle that had belonged to Elphaba. He sighed. This was not unlike nights at Kiamo Ko when he would find Elphaba in a similar state. How Miss Glinda could sleep with all those ruffles and corsets, though, was beyond him. Nevertheless, he gently pulled a quilt over the sleeping beauty and relocated the green bottle to safety on her nightstand. When he tried to do the same with the Grimmerie, however, she only clutched it tighter.

"Elphie?" she muttered sleepily.

Nervous, Chistery just smoothed back some of her curls. This seemed to calm Glinda and she drifted back to sleep. He sighed with relief. He had been charged by Elphaba to watch over Glinda. She had told him and the other Monkeys that Glinda would watch over them now. Having lived in captivity under the Wizard for so long, Chistery was wary of trusting anyone besides Elphaba, their savior, but he had little choice. No one else would protect them as Elphaba had. Chistery could only hope that her trust in her friend had not been misplaced.


	2. The Greater Kells: Part One

The rain simply would not stop. Fiyero watched the torrent from the cave opening and sighed.

"Careful," his green companion spoke, "you don't want to get soaked."

"I'd live." He turned to see the worry etched on Elphaba's face. "You think I didn't encounter inclement weather when I was with… that girl?"

Ignoring his sudden increase in vocabulary, she replied, "I just don't understand, really, what it is I've done to you." Her voice was so quiet that he almost could not hear her.

"Fabala, Fae…" Fiyero ambled over to where his love was tending the fire. "I'd be dead if not for you."

"But what kind of life is this?!" In a burst of anger, Elphaba flung the stick she'd been prodding the fire with against the wall of the cave. The motion caused sparks to fly, and one caught on Fiyero's sleeve.

"Ay!" he yelled, flailing about.

"Oh my Oz!" Elphaba shouted.

Fiyero stumbled over to the mouth of the cave to hold his arm out in the rain, beating it against the opening until the fire went out. He let out a long breath before he turned and grinned at Elphaba. "There, crisis averted."

"Oh Oz." Tears started streaming down Elphaba's face. She approached Fiyero and examined the small burn mark on his now-drenched arm. "You see? I make the slightest error and I could just destroy you, 'Yero."

"Shh." The Scarecrow wrapped her in his arms.

"I never should have let you follow me. You deserve so much more than this, 'Yero. You should be with Glinda. I shouldn't have taken you from her."

"Hey," he cut her off sternly, and tilted her face up until he was looking her in the eye. "I _chose_ to be with you. I did. Not you, not Glinda. Me. Fiyero Tiggular."

"You do love her though. Don't you?"

Fiyero gulped.

"It's okay, 'Yero." Elphaba smiled. "I love her too."

***

Fiyero had had just about enough of this rain. It had been two whole days now, and while he had no real physical requirements, Elphaba needed food. His current state of being and her allergy prevented either of them from going out foraging in the rain, and the food supplies they'd brought from Kiamo Ko were dwindling fast. Not that Elphaba was eating much. The most she seemed to be able to stomach were some stale crackers, and maybe a few of the berries they'd picked along their way through the Great Kells.

Needless to say, Fiyero was worried about his Fae. The stress seemed to finally be catching up with her. He could not believe this was the life she'd been living all these years since Shiz. She'd been all alone. Where had he been? Living it up in the Emerald City, soaring through the ranks of society with Glinda at his side.

He sighed. Glinda. He felt like such a cad. Because he had been unable to choose between the women he loved for so long, he had hurt her badly. He thought back to that fateful day.

"_I'm going with her."_

"_What?" Had the situation not been so serious, Fiyero might have been amused at his fiancée's incredulous expression._

"_What?" Elphaba echoed her._

_He kept his eyes trained on Glinda, watching as it dawned on her what all of this meant. He could hear her heart breaking, if only because his heart was breaking too. Everything they'd had together, everything they could have had was ruined because of him. He'd ruined her._

He could still hear her shrieking, _"Go on! You deserve each other!" _after them as they fled.

Fiyero sighed and regarded the sleeping woman in the cave. Glinda was right. They did deserve each other. They were both misfits, outcasts, feared by the masses. Sure, that had not always been Fiyero's lot in life, but his newfound status as a freak got to him more than he would ever admit to Elphaba. Telling her would hurt her too much.

Glinda, on the other hand, belonged in the limelight. She was beautiful and precious, and although she was not perfect as Fiyero had once thought her to be, he loved her just the same. Leaving her had been the hardest decision he'd ever had to make, but he knew he would not have been able to live with himself if he had let Elphaba go again.

Elphaba needed him more than Glinda did, plain and simple. Glinda was stronger than she let on, while Elphaba's tough façade was just that- a façade. She might have been one of the strongest, most capable persons Fiyero had ever met, but she did not take care of herself. In the years that had passed since they'd been at Shiz together, Elphaba's life on the run had left her too thin for comfort. Her lack of human interaction in that time had also left her… touchy, to put it mildly. Her social skills had grown even more awkward than they had been at Shiz.

Fiyero's speculations were interrupted when he heard the distinct sound of retching. He hurried to where Elphaba lay, slightly turned to her side so as not to vomit on herself.

"Fae?"

Embarrased, Elphaba quickly wiped her mouth. "I'm fine."

"Elphaba, you are not fine." Fiyero grabbed a cloth out of their bag and cleaned up the mess as best he could.

"I'm just a little tired." She lay back down.

Fiyero took a moment to observe her. She did not seem feverish, but she was definitely pale--as pale as her emerald skin allowed anyway. He stroked her cheek. "A little tired doesn't make you throw up, Love," he spoke softly.

Elphaba leaned into his touch. "M'sorry 'bout that."

He gave her his lopsided grin, despite its having lost all its former effect in his current state of being. "No worries. You rest."

Fiyero stayed with her until she drifted off again. The grin he'd been wearing for her benefit quickly melted into a frown. His Elphaba was sick, and he had no idea why. He shifted his gaze to the torrential downpour taking place beyond the cave. He was going to have to go out there. The chances of finding help out here in the Greater Kells was one in a million, but he had to try. For Elphaba. Hastily, he threw her hooded cloak over himself and ventured out.


	3. The Greater Kells: Part Two

Sister Doctor and Sister Apothecaire huddled together beneath their make-shift shelter. The necessity of their close proximity to one another did not please either of them, but they had little choice in this rain, as the closest town was at Kiamo Ko, still at least another day's journey if not two.

"Why did Superior Maunt send _us _on this mission? We are clearly too old to put up with these conditions," Sister Apothecaire whined.

Sister Doctor nodded in agreement. "I suppose she felt the novices were too effected by the rumors of the Wicked Witch of the West to deliver last rites in a respectful manner."

"I suppose…" the Munchkin woman conceded. "Say…" she squinted and peered over the rim of her glasses. "Do you see that?"

"What?"

"There," Sister Apothecaire pointed. "It's moving."

Sister Doctor looked in the direction her travel companion was pointing. "That it is a person. I think he, or is it a she? Do you think he sees us? Oh, he must, he's starting to wave."

"What could he possibly need so badly to venture out in this weather?" Sister Apothecaire sniffed haughtily. "We only have room for the two of us in our tent anyway."

"Well, he certainly has a funny way about him. Who walks like that? Oh my, he's just fallen." Sister Doctor stood and stepped out of the tent.

Reluctantly, Sister Apothecaire followed suit. "Oh, I hope he isn't Yunamata," she muttered. "My Yunamata is ever so rusty."

Sister Doctor and Sister Apothecaire approached the fallen individual, the short distance proving long enough for the rain to seep through their clothes and drip down their faces.

Sister Apothecaire gasped. "An abomination," she whispered upon seeing the person lying before them.

"A Scarecrow. Possibly _the _Scarecrow, if that wasn't all a ploy," Sister Doctor muttered before addressing him. "Hello! Can you hear us?!"

The Scarecrow was so weighed down with raindrops, he had trouble speaking. He finally managed. "My… wife… needs help."

Bypassing the part where Scarecrows suddenly had wives, Sister Doctor immediately jumped into interrogation. "Where is she? Is she in pain?"

"She's sick, and in need of food."

Sister Doctor and Sister Apothecaire shared a quick glance before springing into action. Sister Apothecaire hobbled through the mud as quickly as she could to grab hers and Sister Doctor's supplies. Sister Doctor, meanwhile, saw to the difficult task of getting the Scarecrow upright and moving again.

"Unnamed God, you're heavy," she muttered to herself. "Do you suppose we could wring you out? Would that help do you think?"

"Dunno," he gurgled, "this has never happened before."

Sister Apothecaire approached them, weighed down by the packs of their traveling supplies.

"Sister," Sister Doctor ordered, "come, we must wring him out and bring him with us. Now, Mr. Scarecrow, where is it we are to find your wife?"

The Scarecrow gave them directions, while the holy women went to work trying to wring him out to a point where they could bare his weight. That done, they fashioned the cape the Scarecrow had been wearing into a sling of sorts, for Sister Doctor to carry him on her back.

The trek back to the Scarecrow's wife seemed to go on forever in the rain. They finally reached a cave.

"Here, this is it!" the Scarecrow yelled over the storm.

"Thank the Unnamed God," Sister Apothecaire muttered miserably.

When they stepped in from the rain, they were greeted by an extremely agitated green woman wielding a dagger.

"Who are you?! What do you want with me?!"

"Elphaba," the Scarecrow exclaimed, trying to lift his head from Sister Doctor's shoulder, "it's okay! They're here to help us!"

Her red eyes immediately widened. She dropped the dagger and rushed over to them. "Oz! Fiyero!" She started to untie the cape, wincing as the dampness stung her. After a moment she glared up at Sister Doctor. "Are you going to help me, or are you not done staring yet?"

Sister Doctor cleared her throat. "My apologies. It's just that that we thought you were dead."

"I am dead, and so is he. You'd best remember that when you leave."

They lowered the Scarecrow off Sister Doctor's back and carried him over near the fire to dry out. Sister Apothecaire followed them with their bags. She and Sister Doctor began unpacking them while the Witch sat with the Scarecrow.

"Yero," she stroked his burlap face, "what were you thinking?"

"Stop it," he admonished softly, "you'll burn your hands."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do."

She sighed, and settled for just sitting with him. Noticing their audience once again, she glared across the fire. "Who are they?"

"_We_ are here to help," Sister Doctor held her head up high.

"Your husband seemed quite distressed by your condition, Oz knows why…" Sister Apothecaire was shaking the water off of her glasses, searching for a dry cloth to wipe them on.

The green woman smirked. "My husband?" she challenged Fiyero.

The Scarecrow sighed. "Dire circumstances. Wife was easier to explain than the woman I ran away with, whom I love, but is girlfriend really the right word? It seems juvenile, and oh yeah by the way, we're hiding in caves out here in the wilderness because she's supposed to be dead."

A great cackle of laughter echoed through the cave, causing Fiyero to smile and startling their guests.

* * *

An hour later, Fiyero had dried out sufficiently enough to move about, though he was still damp in spots. Elphaba had begrudgingly lent the old maunts a couple of her old frocks, as their own clothes were soaked. The sisters then cooked up a meal for three, which they were all now enjoying around the fire.

Elphaba practically inhaled her food like a starving woman. "Thank you so much for this. I can't remember the last time I had a decent meal."

"This is nothing," Sister Apothecaire reported cheerily. "You should see what Sister Cook can do back at the mauntery."

"Which mauntery is that?" Fiyero inquired.

"The Cloister of St. Glinda," Sister Doctor answered.

Elphaba immediately started choking on her food.

"Whoa, easy there, Fae. Remember to breathe between bites," Fiyero tried to joke. Truth be told, though, he was a bit shaken by this revelation as well. Once upon a time, back when he was just dancing through life, he would have called it a coincidence. Now, though…now, he could not help but wonder. Was Glinda somehow watching over Elphaba and him? Had the Unnamed God sent these maunts? Would their bond with Glinda ever truly be broken? Did he want it to?

"I'm sorry," Elphaba stuttered, taking a sip of her drink. "I must have swallowed wrong." Her hands shook as she set the cup back down. "If you'll just excuse me for a moment."

Elphaba stood up a bit too quickly, a wave of lightheadedness hitting her. Fiyero caught her before she could fall. The sisters, too, rose to their feet out of concern for the woman.

"Are you alright?" Sister Doctor asked.

"I'm fine," Elphaba answered hastily.

"No. You're not," Fiyero countered firmly. "She's been like this for awhile now. Lightheaded, nauseous, fatigued."

"It's nothing, I'm just tired," Elphaba argued.

"All the same, we should have a look at you," Sister Doctor stated. "I am an expert diagnostician, and Sister Apothecaire has been known to whip up a remedy or two that may help you."

Sister Apothecaire glared at her traveling partner, but spoke to Elphaba. "It's the least we can do, seeing as we can no longer offer last rites. As you are not dead."

"Fae, please," Fiyero held her chin gently in his hand. "For me?"

Elphaba sighed, her resolve fading. "Fine."

The maunts hung Elphaba's cape up to create a screen of modesty while they examined Elphaba. Fiyero could hear the faint muttering of voices behind the cape, wishing they would speak up so he could know what was going on.

It had been only fifteen minutes, but to Fiyero it felt like an eternity. He had no idea what the maunts' prognosis would be. He feared the worst, and was about to burst through the make-shift curtain and demand some answers when he heard Elphaba's voice clear as day.

"WHAT?!" she yelled. There was more quiet chatter followed by, "No. Get out. Get out now!"

Sister Apothecaire scurried out from behind the cape followed by a slightly miffed Sister Doctor.

Fiyero panicked. "What is it? What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"Perfectly fine, Mr. Scarecrow," Sister Doctor answered him. "She's merely with child, that is all."

"I- She- What?" The Scarecrow blinked, not believing his ears. He'd only had that one night with Elphaba before…before all this.

"Your wife is pregnant," Sister Apothecaire spoke loudly, enunciating her words as she would with a slow child.

"We're having a baby?" Fiyero's face split into a wide grin.

"It would appear so," Sister Doctor replied.

Fiyero just stood there, grinning like an idiot. He was no longer aware of the storm raging outside, or the lack of physical sensation in his straw body, nor did he care that they were living like vagabonds in the country side. He and Elphaba were going to have a child together. Suddenly there was hope in the world.


	4. Keeping Up Appearances

_Thanks for all the comments you guys! I can't wait to see where this fic goes either! You know how characters have a tendency to just kind of take over and do their own thing!_

* * *

Glinda smiled and waved to the cheering crowd. "Farewell! Toodles!" Her pleasantries continued until her bubble finally carried her out of earshot and into her home at the Emerald Palace.

The smile fell from her face as soon as she reached her chambers. Oz, she was tired. She was tired all the time these days. She stopped and leaned against the wall for a moment, gathering herself.

"Milady?" a timid voice peeped out.

Glinda sighed. "Tilsy, what have I said about all that 'Milady' business? Miss Glinda will do fine."

The young girl blushed. She was new to the Palace, and serving Glinda the Good was apparently quite intimidating to her. "Miss Glinda, there is a gentleman here to see you."

Glinda groaned and made an attempt to loosen her corset. "Not another insufferable suitor." Ever since news had spread of Glinda the Good's heartbreak thanks to that "Wicked Witch", men from all over Oz had traveled to the Emerald City seeking her hand in marriage. Even a few Quadlings had made a jab at it.

"He says he knew you in school, Miss."

This peaked Glinda's interest. "School?"

"Yes, Miss. He says you were friends at Shiz."

It had been ages since Glinda had seen anyone from Shiz besides Elphie and Fiyero, and they were gone forever. She had no one left. Could it be that someone from her past was here to rekindle a friendship? Or would they prove to be a foe, yet another colleague she had to watch closely? Either way, could she really stand being alone much longer?

"I will see him. But first, Tilsy, help me change into something more comfortable. If he is indeed an old friend, he won't mind if I'm not dressed to the nines. The sevens will have to do." If nothing else, she _had _ to get out of this corset. It wasn't good for the baby.

* * *

Boq gazed out the window in the formal parlour. The view was beautiful. If one did not know of the squalor hidden beneath the shining emerald skyscrapers, one might actually be able to enjoy it.

"Announcing her Goodliness, Glinda the Good!" the doorman bellowed before the great oak double doors swung open, revealing Glinda in a flowing gown the colour of soft daffodils.

Boq's breath caught in his throat. He took note that Glinda was not bejeweled as she often appeared in public. In all frankness, Boq preferred her with flowers in her hair to tiaras.

"Boq!" Glinda squealed, rushing toward him, embracing him tightly.

"Miss Glinda," Boq hugged her back, relishing in the scent of lavender and roses that emanated from her hair.

Glinda finally pulled away from her old classmate and held him at arm's length. "Boq. It is so good to see you."

"And I you, Miss Glinda." He gazed at her for a moment. "Why, you're absolutely-"

Glinda cut him off, a dangerous glint in her eye. "If you say glowing, I will go get my wand and stick it-"

"Beautiful!" Boq finished his sentence frantically. Although, now that she mentioned it, Glinda did have a bit of a luminescent quality to her he'd never seen before. "You're always beautiful, Miss Glinda."

"Oh, Boq" Glinda blushed. "Enough with this Miss Glinda business. We're old friends, you and I. You must call me Glinda."

Boq beamed. "If you insist, Glinda."

"Now, sit," she commanded, taking a seat on the settee, patting the spot next to her. "Sit sit sit." Boq complied. Glinda continued. "Now you must tell me everything. I have not seen you since we graduated from Shiz! Have you been in Munchkinland all this time?"

Boq nodded solemnly. "I have. Things…have not been good, what with the drought and… other things."

"Yes," Glinda's smile faded. "I tried to guide Nessarose after Elphie…Elphaba disappeared. Her devotion to the Unnamed God, though, proved stronger than her commitment to her people."

"You know, I…I saw Elphaba, shortly before, well before, you know."

"Yes?" Glinda's eyes glittered with new life. "How was she? Did she look well?"

Boq shifted uncomfortably. "If I may speak with perfect candor, Glinda?" the blonde nodded vigorously. "She frightened me, Glinda. I always knew Elphaba was passionate about things, from our days at Shiz, but this was different. She just wouldn't get over those shoes. Kept pestering me about Dorothy." At Glinda's knit brow, Boq explained, "I gave Dorothy and those odd fellows shelter one night. A few days later, lo and behold Elphaba appears in my fireplace, like the Lurelinemas faerie or something. We had supper together and I let her stay the night, but, Oz, once she learned the girl had been there, she would not let it go. I truly feared for Dorothy."

Glinda gazed out the window. "Yes. That was after her sister…after Fiyero…" She composed herself before she continued, a stern expression fixed on her face. "Elphaba would never hurt a ch-ch-ch-child!" Her attempt had failed, and the blonde dissolved into incontrollable sobs.

Boq's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to upset her! "Oh, Miss Glinda, I'm sorry," he fumbled, trying to comfort her.

Glinda fell into Boq's arms limply, sobbing onto his chest, barely hearing the soft assurances he offered her.

After a few minutes of crying, Glinda took the handkerchief Boq offered her. "Thank you." She delicately dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose. "I'm sorry. I'm just so emotional these days."

"Well, that's understandable, given your condition," Boq offered.

"What do you mean, my condition?" Glinda snapped.

Boq blinked; Glinda was behaving in a confusifying manner today. "Just that you are in mourning."

She relaxed. "Oh. That." She sighed, leaning back on the setee. "Oh Boq, I don't know what to do."

The Munchkin immediately jumped at the challenge. He would brave hell and highwater for Miss Glinda. "What is it, Glinda? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Turn back time?" she smiled sadly at him. Boq frowned, knowing he could do no such thing. Glinda quietly dismissed the servants in the room, save one Flying Monkey in a red coat. "Boq, now that we are friends again, I want to trust you with something. Can I do that? Can I trust you?" She clasped his hands tightly.

"I would do anything for you, Miss Glinda."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I am going to tell you what I have not told another soul, save Chistery here, and he surely isn't going to tell anyone. You must do the same."

"I promise," he nodded eagerly.

"Boq…" she gulped, suddenly nervous. "I'm pregnant," she whispered.

Boq's mouth hung open like a codfish. Then, "It's Fiyero's, isn't it?" Glinda nodded, her eyes downcast. The Munchkin was suddenly overcome with anger. "That bastard!" He shot up off the settee. "He just- he just left you like that! I knew he was shallow, but that's just low."

"Boq!" Glinda sprang up after him. "It wasn't like that!"

"You mean he didn't use you and leave you?"

"I- No!" Glinda refused to believe that. Fiyero _had _loved her, even if she hadn't been enough for him. "Boq- he…he didn't know. He never knew. I didn't know myself until…until he was gone."

A thick silence hung over the room.

Boq finally spoke. "You realize you're carrying the heir to the Arjiki throne."

Glinda's sapphire eyes grew large. "Oh, I hadn't thought of that. I've been so busy just trying to hide the fact that I'm pregnant."

"How long do you think you can keep that up, Glinda? People are going to notice sooner or later."

"I have my ways," Glinda stated evasively. "Boq, no one can know about this. Glinda the Good does not have children out of wedlock!"

Boq licked his lips; they had gone dry due to his nerves. "So, what are you going to do?"

Glinda turned and gazed out the window. "The only thing I can do."


	5. Apple Press Farm

**Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so glad people are enjoying this fic. Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I've had some writer's block and the plot was still formulating in my head. Just a warning, rating will prolly have to go up in future chapters. Let's just say our villain...well, you'll see. Anywho, here's the next chapter!  
**

* * *

"Argh! I hate this!" Elphaba shrieked, flinging a frying pan across the room.

Fiyero popped his straw head in the window. "Troubles, my sweet?"

"I was _not _made for domestic bliss, Yero," she growled, waddling over to her rocking chair. It was not very comfortable, but it was the only chair she could get up out of without assistance these days.

Fiyero entered the little house and started cleaning up the mess Elphaba had made. "I told you, Fae, let me do all this. You need your rest."

Elphaba sighed dramatically. "I'm tired of resting, Fiyero. I can't go out. I've been cooped up in this house for, Oz knows how long…"

"Five months," Fiyero supplied.

"For five months!" Elphaba continued. "If I go out, our cover will be blown. Do you know how close we are to the Emerald City? The very heart of Oz! We were supposed to have passed through Quadling country by now, out of Oz, where we could roam free. Instead I'm stuck here, barely able to move, much less flee if we get caught." She shuddered.

Her companion brushed a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. "Shh. I won't let anything happen to you. We're going to be fine, and in a couple of months…"

"No," Elphaba cut him off harshly. "Yero, we talked about this. A life on the run…that's no way to bring up a child. Besides, I'm not exactly…the nurturing type. For Oz's sake, little children run screaming when they see my face." She shook her head violently. "No, I'm not going to let my…I'm not going to let my child grow up an outcast like I did."

"Fae," Fiyero knelt down before her. "Listen to me. There is no one more capable of love than _you_. I mean, listen to yourself. You already love this child. I think we could give him, or her, a good life together. Don't you?"

Elphaba snorted laugh. "Oh yeah, a mean old Witch for a mother and a Scarecrow for a father. _That's _a good life." She immediately regretted her words. "Oh, Yero…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

Fiyero tried to mask the hurt in his eyes, but failed miserably. "No, you did. You meant it exactly like that." He stood up. "I'm a freak, right?"

"Yero, no-"

"No, no, you're right. Who would want a Scarecrow for a father? But whose fault is that, huh?!" He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"Fiyero!" Elphaba called out, before dissolving into sobs. Oz, what had she done?

* * *

The next few days were spent in awkward silence and isolation. Since Fiyero needed neither sleep nor sustenance, he spent his time outdoors, or in the tool shed. He would leave vegetables, fruits, grains and firewood on the doorstep for Elphaba, but that was the extent of their contact.

Fiyero was angry. He hated being trapped in this straw form, unable to feel, ineffectual in a real crisis. He loathed his new life of skulking around, fearful of what would happen were Elphaba to be discovered. More than anything though, he was angry with the Wizard for stealing Elphaba's life from her; all her hope and potential shattered, she was forced into the life of a fugitive and it had taken its toll on her.

Once upon a time, Fiyero had imagined building a life with Elphaba. She had awoken a fire in him that could not be quelled. She had opened his eyes and made him care about the world around him. She would have made a marvelous queen. He had imagined introducing her to his family, marrying her, having children… but he'd chickened out. He was a coward, afraid of the cost to his reputation. More than that, he could not bear to hurt Galinda, as she has been known then. She clearly adored him, and truth be told, he had loved her, albeit in a completely different way than he loved Elphaba. She was the heart and soul of their little trio, while Elphaba was the passionate intellect. How Fiyero fit in, he did not know, but he was glad to have had both of them in his life.

Fiyero sighed, thinking back to the day they had learned Elphaba was pregnant. He thought then that at least part of his dream would come true. They were having a child together, they could be a family. Elphaba was right, though. A life on the run was no way to raise a child, and they couldn't exactly settle down and live like other folks did. He was a Scarecrow, and she the dead and much feared Wicked Witch of the West. He knew there were Witch sympathizers, particularly among the Animals and Birds, but even with that, they would always be forced to live underground, away from the public eye. Elphaba could never be discovered or she _would_ be killed, and Fiyero could not guarantee he would be able to save her again.

* * *

Elphaba had never felt more alone in her life. Even the years she'd spent alone as a fugitive before her "death" had not instilled this sense of grief and loneliness in her. Fiyero would not speak with her. She hated herself for hurting him, and in more ways than one. If it weren't for her, he'd have never been hunted, beaten and tortured. He wouldn't be trapped in that straw body. Yet another good deed gone awry. She'd only wanted to save him, but the words swam before her on the page, changing constantly. Now he was trapped, immortal, unfeeling, not dead but not quite alive either, not in the flesh and blood sense anyhow.

The one night they had spent together before everything had fallen apart had been magical. She missed the warmth of his kisses, the strength of his arms when they held her. For a moment, she'd thought, _I could stay here forever._ But of course, she couldn't. She wasn't that selfish. Nessa needed her. Glinda needed her. Oz needed her. And Fiyero had paid the price. This baby was the only evidence remaining of his former self, and here she was denying him a chance at some real happiness. She could not shake the feeling of dread she felt, though, at the thought of being a mother. She was not exactly known for nurturing, or even being nice period. Children feared her. What if her own child hated her? What if it came out green, condemned to living the life of an outcast that she had been forced into? What if it inherited her allergy to water? What if she forgot to feed it? What if… what if she loved the child? History showed that nothing good came to those who loved Elphaba.

* * *

Fiyero approached the door in the moonlight. He gingerly laid the basket of food on the doorstep and turned to walk away. He heard the door open behind him.

"Yero?" Elphaba called softly.

He turned to see her leaning her hip against the doorframe.

"Yero, I'm sorry, I… I'm just so scared. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not cut out to be a mother and I just…I don't want to disappoint you."

He said nothing but stepped closer.

"I want to try though, to be a mother, I mean." She was crying now. "I don't want to lose you, Yero, not again."

"Shh," Fiyero wiped her tears away as quickly as he could. "You'll burn yourself."

"I'll try. I promise I'll try," she was barely whispering.

"I know," he smiled softly. "We'll both try." He wrapped his arms around her. They stood there, bathed in the moonlight for some time.

Elphaba finally let go, squatting down to pick up the basket of food. "Come inside with me?" she offered as she stood again.

Fiyero gave her his once gorgeous lop-sided grin. "Love to."

They wandered into the house, Fiyero closing the door behind him.

"Oh!" Elphaba yelled, dropping the basket, its contents spilling all over the floor.

"Fae?" Fiyero rushed over to her, helping her into the rocking chair. "Fae, what is it? Talk to me." He tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

Elphaba had that far away, crazed look in her eye that Fiyero had only seen once before, when she'd had the vision of the house in the sky.

"Glinda!" she gasped.

Fear clutched at Fiyero's heart. He knew all too well that Elphaba's visions had a nasty habit of coming true. "What? What about Glinda?"

"She's in pain," Elphaba hissed. "She's…" Her own green face contorted in pain. "Oh, Oz, Yero! The baby. The baby's coming now!"


	6. On the Night You Were Born

Wow! I'm on some kind of a roll today. Here's the next installment. Had to raise the rating just a smidge. I don't think it's all that bad, but you can never tell with people, so I raised the rating just in case. Next chapter's already formulating in my head, so hopefully it should be up this week!

* * *

Tilsy strolled down the hall to her mistress's chambers, bearing a tray with her lady's evening tea. As she approached the room she heard some rather unlady like cries and gasps coming from the room. Tilsy blushed, thinking perhaps Lady Glinda had taken a gentleman friend into her chambers for some comfort. She knocked on the door gently, only to be met with another scream. This scream was certainly not pleasurable, however. It sounded pained.

"Miss Glinda?" Tilsy cracked the door open, unbidden. She gasped at the sight of Miss Glinda, full with child and clearly in the process of delivering said child into this world. The tea forgotten she dropped the tray onto the plush green carpet, turning and running down the hall to find help.

She ran into Master Boq in the library. The Munchkin looked up from his reading by the fireplace, noting Tilsy's distress.

"Tilsy, what is it?"

The mousy servant girl panted heavily. "It's Miss Glinda. I…Master Boq, she's having a baby!" She wrung her hands.

Boq shot up from his seat immediately, running out of the library. Tilsy followed suit. Sure enough, they found Glinda in the full throes of labor in her room.

"Tilsy, run some warm water in the bathtub. Hurry!" he ordered before arriving at Glinda's side. The pretty blonde was clutching the footboard of her bed, her knuckles white. "Glinda," he whispered, "why didn't you call me?"

"No one can know," she hissed through her gritted teeth.

Anger flared up in Boq. "You could die! The baby could die! And you're still hung up on your little secret?"

Glinda turned bloodshot eyes on him. "Carrying the last heir to the Arjiki throne is not a _little_ secret."

Boq flushed red, knowing there was no arguing that. "Come on," he huffed, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into her bathing chambers where Tilsy had filled the tub as he ordered.

He lowered her into the tub, relieved in a way that Glinda was too beside herself with pain to protest the ruining of her gown.

* * *

Fiyero paced ­nervously outside the cottage. He hated being helpless. All he could do was listen to Elphaba's cries. Luckily he'd been able to fetch a midwife from the town nearby. He only hoped she was trustworthy. The fact that she hadn't batted an eye upon seeing Elphaba assured him somewhat, though. She'd merely gone straight to work, eventually kicking Fiyero out due to his constant interruptions.

It was too soon. The baby was not due for another two months. Fiyero feared the worst and couldn't help but feel responsible. The last few days couldn't have been easy for Elphaba, they were certainly hell for him. Had the stress caused her to go into labor? Maybe it was his genes. He'd never been exactly patient himself- perhaps the baby inherited this and was itching to get out. He snorted. _That _was both their faults; Elphaba was just as, if not more, impatient than him at times.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the shrill cry of his child come from within. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he rushed into the house.

"There, there," the midwife cooed, swaddling the baby in one of Elphaba's frocks.

Fiyero stood frozen, unable to take his eyes off the baby.

"Is it okay?" Elphaba asked from the bed, long, sweat-drenched tresses clinging to her face, neck and body.

"He will be," the midwife answered. "Mind you, he'll need a doctor, and soon. But he's got spunk this one. You treat him right, I think he'll make it."

"Can…" Elphaba shifted nervously. "Can I hold him?"

The midwife smiled. "Of course, dearie." She strolled over to the bed, gently placing the still crying infant in his mother's arms. "Mind the head, there you go."

Elphaba stiffened awkwardly, taking a moment to adjust to the feel of her son. She'd never held a baby before, much less a child. "Shhhhhh" She smoothed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. To her amazement, the child hushed and seemed to fall asleep. She grinned up at Fiyero. "It's a boy."

Fiyero grinned back. He approached the bed slowly. Quickly he turned back to the midwife. "You're sure they're okay?"

"Fine as day," she smiled, squeezing his arm, straw crinkling under her hand. "Just you see they both get to a doctor soon, and you're family will be right as rain."

Fiyero noted with some amusement the scowl on Elphaba's face at the mention of rain, but couldn't care less at the moment. Elphaba was okay, and he had a healthy son. Things were finally starting to look up.

* * *

Glinda still refused to call a doctor, determined that no one should know about her child. That left Boq and Tilsy to watch over her through the labor. Chistery had heard the commotion before Glinda had muttered a spell, soundproofing her chambers, and come running, though he was rather ineffective at the moment. He merely perched atop the gilded mirror over the sink, wringing his tail in his hands.

Tilsy appeared quite worried, standing at the ready with a cool, damp cloth to wipe Lady Glinda's brow with. Boq cursed his luck at having gotten stuck in this situation. Growing up on a farm, he'd had a lot of experience delivering animals, and even some Animals, but this was _Glinda _for Oz's sake. This wasn't exactly how he'd seen their relationship developing.

"Boq…" Glinda grimaced. "It hurts."

Without hesitation, Boq splashed into the warm tub with her, pulling her back against him so she was resting against his chest. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. Shifting his eyes, he spoke to the servant girl. "Tilsy, I need you to be ready for the baby. Can you do that? You need to bring it up out of the water when it comes." Tilsy just nodded. "Good. Okay, Glinda, I need you to breathe. Just breathe."

Glinda took a few deep breaths. Leaning her head back on Boq's shoulder, she sighed. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he answered.

The blonde smiled, turning her head and kissing him gently on the lips. The Munchkin's eyebrows shot up. That was certainly the last thing he'd expected. Just as soon as it had come, though, it was gone as another contraction shot through Glinda's body causing her to cry out in pain.

His hands on her belly, Boq could tell the baby would be there any moment now. Glinda abandoned her spot against Boq, instead leaning forward, her hands on the edge of the tub. A few pushes and much screaming later, the baby was born, Boq, rather than the inept Tilsy, catching it and bringing it up out of the water, it's cries echoing through the wash room.

Boq smiled. It was a girl that much was sure. He stood up, stepping out of the tub, his clothes dripping wet onto the porcelain floor.

"Tilsy, grab me that towel," Boq instructed. Tilsy hurried over with the fluffy white towel, helping Boq wrap the squalling infant snugly. He approached Glinda, who was still leaning against the edge of the tub, her head resting on her arms, golden curls flat against her face.

"Glinda, meet your daughter," he spoke softly.

"Take it away," she whispered, refusing to turn her head to see her child.

"What? Glinda?"

"Take it away," she uttered again, her voice hoarse.

Boq frowned. "Just like that?" She nodded. "Without even a name? Where do I take her?"

"I don't want to know."

Boq felt that anger flare up in him again. This was not the Glinda he knew and loved. The Glinda he loved would never abandon her child without even a name. "Why bother carrying her to term, if you're just going to cast her to the wolves?!" he clung the baby to him tightly.

"It's safer this way!" Glinda's voice pierced and echoed in the porcelain wash room. "It can never know who I am, or who _it_ is. You know as well as I do it will be killed if anyone discovers its paternity. Please, just…just take it away."

"Yes, Miss Glinda," Boq did not even try to hide the iciness in his voice. He simply turned, leaving with the child, leaving Miss Glinda behind.


	7. The Other Thropp

**Sorry for the long wait! Here's the next chapter! Things are getting much more interesting in my little Oz. Warning, the fic is getting darker than I'd anticipated (but don't worry, I'm sure things will work out in the end!) and the rating may go up. In any case, hope you enjoy!**

**Please R & R!  
**

* * *

Shell was spent by his last "patient."

Looming over her cowering form, he buckled his belt. "Right then," he smirked. "I'm off."

She might have been pretty once, before her condemnation to Southstairs, but none of that particularly mattered. Southstairs was a city of its own right, though it b­e underground and entirely populated by convicts and felons. Shell saw no reason she and her kind shouldn't earn their living as they had up top.

Paying no mind to her sniveling, Shell grabbed the torch he had set aside and went about his way. He stopped just outside the maximum security ward. Some energy was drawing him in. With a nod to the guard he entered the ward, ignoring the pleas for help as he passed each cell. Finally, he reached the cell that had been calling out to him.

"So glad you could make it," the voice in the shadow greeted.

Shell rolled his eyes. "You. What do you want?"

"I want the same things you want, boy."

"I don't want anything," he countered with a cold smile.

"Of course you do. You want power. You want the control you've never been able to attain, thanks to your sisters' shaming your family name."

"You don't know the first thing about my family, woman." Shell hated when people tried to play the sentimentality card with him. It never worked, only annoyed him. "Now show your face. I don't do business with anyone I can't look in the eye."

The prisoner audibly bristled at the tone of his voice. Regardless, she stepped out of the shadows, revealing the full glory of her fish-like presence. A lesser person would shudder at the sight, but Shell was merely amused. She was fooling no one with that caked white make up flaking away on her face.

"Satisfied?"

Shell shrugged. "You're not much to look at, but this'll do. What is it you want from me?"

"You will reinstate me as Press Secretary."

"That so."

"It's easier than you seem to realize. You see, Master Shell, you have a connection with our beloved Lady Glinda." The disdain in the old biddy's tone was not even concealed.

"I've seen her in passing, if that's what you mean."

"You mean, you really don't know? I mean, of the friendship your sister shared with Lady Glinda?"

"I had two sisters, you know. You'll have to be more specific." This was getting much more interesting.

"Why, Miss Elphaba, of course. Her passing has had Lady Glinda in the throes of grief. The two were very close. After their falling out over that silly prince, I thought we'd gotten full control of the situation, but as you can see," she indicated her dingy surroundings "it only got worse.

Shell was intrigued. Lady Glinda seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Eliminate the competition, and she'd landed as acting ruler of Oz. He could definitely use this to his advantage. "What are you proposing, Morrible?"

Madame Morrible gave him a toothy, yellow grin. "It's simple, dear boy. You woo Miss Glinda, rise to power at her side, at which point you re-appoint me as Press Secretary."

"That's painfully simple. What's the catch?"

"No catch at all. You'll finally have everything you want."

* * *

Shell approached Colwen Grounds by horseback around dusk. Voices from the past drifted past his ears, images skating across his mind's eye. He was not plagued by the sensation of nostalgia, however, but rather a sense of beginning. He returned home not to relive the past, but to grasp the present fiercely and plough into the future.

The guard at the gate snored loudly as Shell sauntered past him. _Nice to see they haven't let the place go to hell since Nessie died, _Shell rolled his eyes.

Strolling through the front door, he took in the stench of dust and decay. No one had seen to the place very well in the almost year since Nessa's passing.

"Father! Nanny!" he yelled. He bolted up the stairs, frightening an elderly maid as he did so. The munchkin woman screamed, startling Shell, who caught her as she collapsed forward into him.

"Esther?" A door down the hall opened, revealing the aging patriarch of the Thropp family. His hair, greased back as always, was streaked with gray, his hairline receding even farther than the last time Shell had seen him.

"Father!" Shell grinned, leaving the unconscious maid at the top of the stairs. He strode toward his father, arms open wide.

Frex's eyes widened. "Shell!" His boy had grown. He embraced his son. "Shell, where in Oz have you been?"

"Oh, you know, here and there. Say, where is everyone? This place is all a shambles!" Shell jovially dusted a railing with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Ah yes," Frex's brow furrowed. "Since our sainted Nessa's passing, Munchkinland is a bit…at odds with itself. The other eminences battling for power and the like."

"That bad, huh?"

Frex nodded. "I never wanted to have to deal with any of this. Minister to the people. Spread the message of the Unnamed God. I never gambled in politics."

"Huh," Shell feigned ignorance. "Well, I may be able to help you out with that."


	8. A Day at the Mauntery

**So sorry for the long wait! I was finally inspired though, so here's the next chapter. Please R&R!**

* * *

"Excuse me. Excuse me!" Elphaba stalked angrily across the infirmary, cornering the young novice nurse. "I don't see how you expect me to raise a healthy child with all these _sick_ people around!"

Fiyero placed his straw hands on Elphaba's shoulders. "Fae, let the nurse do her job."

Elphaba spun on one heel. "Fiyero, I do not see how you can just sit there while our son is being exposed to…to…" she flailed her arms about. "Well, look around you!"

Were Fiyero still human, he would have probably blushed from embarrassment at Elphaba's display by this point. True, the patients in the infirmary were quite ill, harboring some of the worst diseases one could be afflicted with. That didn't make it right to point it out to them, though.

"Elphaba, please," he spoke in a hushed voice, "you're making a scene."

"I don't make scenes, I am one," she spat. She rushed past him to their corner of the long infirmary, gently picking up the baby from the bassinet. "I'm taking him out for a walk in the garden. When I get back, I expect all our belongings to be settled in _private _quarters."

"You're worried about him getting sick, so you're taking him outside?" Fiyero was quite aggravated by this point.

"Exposure to the elements can't be worse than this," the mother of his child huffed. "One hour. They have one hour to move us to more suitable living quarters." She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Fiyero sighed. Turning back to the young novice now cowering behind her patient, he tried to smile. "Sorry." He really didn't know what else to say.

* * *

It had been a long time since Elphaba had been outdoors during daylight. The high walls guarding the Mauntery and the Sisters' assurance of sanctuary within those walls gave her the courage to enjoy the sun while it was out.

Stepping through the door into the garden, she smiled. "See, Liir? The sun." She smiled down at the sleeping bundle in her arms. Never in her life had she ever thought she would be a mother. Now that she was, though, she could not imagine her life without him. Her son. She had a son, and his name was Liir.

Elphaba set down on a stone bench beneath the apple tree. She closed her eyes and hummed a tune, cuddling her baby close to her. After awhile, she heard footsteps crunching toward her. She knew those footsteps. She opened her eyes and smiled at the straw man approaching her.

Fiyero attempted to remain stern, what with Elphaba's little tantrum in the infirmary and all. "Well, the Superior Maunt agreed to give us private guest quarters on one condition." Elphaba quirked an eyebrow. "We're to contribute to the community. Pitch in where we can."

To his amazement, Elphaba nodded her compliance, turning her attention back to their son. "Fortunately, I was able to convince Sister Saint Tamah that you aren't actually a Wicked Witch, just a concerned mother."

Elphaba winced. "I...I'm sorry, I just… Yero, I just love him so much. I can't stand the thought of anything hurting him ever. I just want to protect him."

Fiyero's stern façade dissolved and he sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I know, Fae." He kissed her temple. The baby stirred and opened his eyes. Fiyero smiled. "Hey, little man." Liir blinked.

"He has your eyes," Elphaba stated happily.

Fiyero chuckled. "All newborns have blue eyes, Fae."

"Really?" Fiyero nodded. "Oh," Elphaba was clearly disappointed.

"Fae, what is it?"

"Nothing." She stole a glance at the Scarecrow at her side. Realizing he wasn't going to let this go, she sighed. "It's just…I want him to look like you."

Fiyero frowned. "Because I don't anymore."

Elphaba's eyes widened. "Fiyero, no." She squeezed his hand, the straw crunching loudly at the touch. "No, it's because…because you're so perfect. I don't want him to have to go through what I did. I mean, thank Oz he isn't green, but I just couldn't live with myself if he ended up an outcast because of me."

"Elphie, Fabala, Fae." Fiyero hugged her and Liir tight in his arms. "You are beautiful, Elphaba. Everything about you is beautiful, from your gorgeous green skin to the way you frighten poor little maunts with your passion and fire."

Elphaba chuckled and looked up at him. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

Fiyero grinned. "Uh huh."

Elphaba cackled. "Your daddy's silly, Liir." In response, Liir started fussing. "Oh, I think he's ready for a real nap. Do you think our room is ready?"

Fiyero stood and held out a hand. "Let's go find out."

* * *

Their new quarters were Spartan, but suited them just fine. The bed was small, but Fiyero did not need sleep anyway. There was a rocking chair, desk and chair set, and Liir's bassinet.

Tonight, Liir decided he did want to be like his father and not sleep either. Elphaba had nursed him, changed him, rocked him, sung to him. Nothing was working, and Fiyero could see that she was tired.

"Fae, let me take him. You need your rest," he gently took the baby from her arms.

"But he needs me," the green woman mumbled sleepily, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Fiyero smiled. "I know, but he's gonna have to settle for his brainless papa right now." Elphaba was already sliding into the bed and pulling the covers over her. "That's my girl."

Liir had quit fussing, but was still in no mood to sleep. Fiyero decided to take his son for a walk through the Mauntery. He spoke softly as they tread through the centuries-old corridors, pointing out the various sculptures and architectural designs.

Truth be told, Fiyero had paid attention in school, he just never applied himself to actually do the work needed to succeed. Architecture was a favorite subject of his. It was one of the common interests he and Glinda had had. He felt close to her now, in this mauntery devoted to her namesake. It was like she was watching over him and his little family.

Fiyero and Liir found themselves in the prayer cove within the chapel. The stone statue of Saint Glinda towered over them. She was mostly gray now, much of her paint having faded over time. She was cold and distant. Nothing like the Glinda Fiyero had known and loved. Still, it was the closest he would ever be able to get to her now.

"Glinda, I…I know you can't hear me." He sighed. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. I really must be brainless now. I just wanted to say…I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you're doing well." He smiled. "They rave about you in the papers. Looks like your title, Glinda the Good has stuck. You deserve it. For all your flaws, you have a good heart, Glinda. In the end, you always do the right thing. I wish…" _No, don't wish, don't start, _he scolded himself. Instead he smiled. "This is my son. Liir. He's so amazing, Glinda. I always wanted children, but I never thought it would happen since my transformation…that's right you haven't seen me since… Well, you have…but you haven't." Another sigh. "I'm rambling. I just… I hope you're okay. We miss you, Elphaba and I. If there were a way—"

His ramblings were cut short by a loud knocking on the chapel doors. His breath caught in his throat. Who could it be at this hour? Surely he and Elphaba hadn't been found out. Was it the Gale Force, his own men, coming to rip his family away from him? It was a good thing Fiyero didn't need sleep, as such thoughts plagued him regularly, and would otherwise steal any sleep away from him.

He peeked around the doorway of the prayer cove into the chapel proper. Sister Hospitality and the Superior Maunt trudged through the chapel toward the door, Sister Hospitality grumbling the whole way.

Fiyero listened closely as they opened the door, quietly asking the person on the other side of the door what he wanted. Carefully, Fiyero moved closer so as to hear better.

"Please," the man said, "she'll be safe nowhere else."

Fiyero knew that voice. It was Boq! Boq? Why would Boq be surrendering his child to a Mauntery? In the middle of the night? Something was not adding up.

"This is not a nursery, sir," Sister Hospitality sneered.

The Superior Maunt held up her hand. "Sister _Hospitality_, let the man speak. Tell me, sir, what is the child's name?"

Fiyero had ducked behind a pew where he could see Boq without being seen himself. He saw the Munchkin smile at the child in his arms.

"I call her Nor." Then he sombered. "She's not mine, you know, I would never abandon my own child. Her parents…her parents are dead. I'd care for her myself, but a farm is no place for a child like her."

The Scarecrow behind the pew furrowed his brow. Boq was holding something back. He was always a terrible liar. Fiyero just could not pinpoint what exactly his old friend was withholding.

A few more minutes of conversation and Boq left. The infant, Nor, was swaddled in Sister Hospitality's arms.

"Well, isn't this a fine mess," Sister Hospitality scowled down at the infant.

The Superior Maunt smiled down at the baby girl. "She is still a child of the Unnamed God, Sister Hospitality, and we have been charged with her care."

Fiyero chose that moment to make his presence known. "Maybe I can be of some help." He couldn't help but smirk when he saw the maunts jump. Especially Sister Hospiality. She'd always bugged him.

"Help, Mr. Scarecrow?" the Superior Maunt interrogated him. "You and Sister Saint Aelphaba have a child of your own," she nodded to Liir. "Do you really believe you can care for two?"

Fiyero shrugged. "We can try. Isn't that all any parent can do? Try to do their best by their children?"

The Superior Maunt suppressed a smile at the straw man's determination and spirit. "You may take her for the night. I trust you will discuss this with your wife when she wakes?" Fiyero nodded. "Very well. Sister Hospitality, let Mr. Scarecrow take the infant now. We are going to trust he and his wife will care for her properly as they do their own son."

Sister Hospitality gladly passed little Nor over to Fiyero and hastily departed for her quarters. The Superior Maunt quietly followed suit, leaving the Scarecrow with his newest charge.

Something sparked in Fiyero the moment Nor was placed in his arms. He knew his girl. She couldn't be any older than Liir, and sure, he'd never seen her before, but somehow he knew this child. He looked down at the now sleeping infants in his arms. Liir showed promise for a full head of dark, ebony hair like his mother's. Even his features were sharper, like hers. Nor's features were softer, and her head was crowned with gentle blonde curls. Still, there was something similar between the two infants, a resemblance so to speak. It confused Fiyero to no end.

_Maybe babies just all look alike_, he decided. Still, he couldn't shake that feeling that little Nor had sent coursing through him. It felt…paternal.


	9. Regrets

_Wow, I can't believe it's been so long since I updated this fic! So sorry to keep everyone waiting. This next installment is short, but sets us up for the next leg of the adventure. Please R & R!_

_

* * *

_

Elphaba woke with the sun, as she often did these days, knowing Liir needed to be nursed. Having never been one to dilly dally, she opened her eyes and sat up quickly.

With a stretch and a yawn, Elphaba made her way to Liir's bassinet, to wake him for his morning feeding. She froze mid-yawn when she saw two babies in the bassinet. She blinked twice, rubbed her eyes, then lowered her arms and just stared at the sleeping babes before her.

Fiyero found Elphaba still frozen like this when he returned to the room with breakfast for her. He too froze, and gulped, fearful of what her reaction was going to be.

"Fiyero?"

"Yes, Fae?"

"Why do we have two babies?"

Fiyero placed the plate of food on the desk before daring to approach her. He did not want to have to clean porridge off of the walls.

"Well, Fae, see, it's like this…" He proceeded to tell her the story of Boq at the chapel door, the baby girl surrendered to the Mauntery, and his offer to care for her, at least for the night.

Elphaba stared at her love with a blank expression while he told her the tale. When he finally finished his tale, she blinked again. "So this baby has been abandoned, and you volunteered _us _to be her caretakers?" Fiyero nodded. She let out a long sigh and sat roughly in the rocking chair. "Thank Oz! I thought I was hallucinating!"

"You're not mad?" This was going much better than Fiyero had anticipated.

"Mad? I'm relieved! For a second there I thought…" her eyes darkened. "Nevermind what I thought."

Hearing the babies stir, Elphaba stood, taking one in each arm before sitting back in the rocking chair. Laying them in her lap, she deftly undid her top before lifting them up again to nurse.

"What are you doing?" Fiyero asked, wide-eyed.

"Nursing them."

"Both of them?"

Elphaba smirked and quirked her eyebrow at him. "Yero, I know you're not so empty-headed as to think this baby girl is some sort of miracle child that doesn't need nourishment."

"I, well, no!" he stammered, clearly embarrassed. "It's just… I'm seeing you in a new light, is all," he smiled. The questioning gaze he received compelled him to explain. "Fae," he knelt down, stroking his son's head, "you were determined not to keep Liir before he was born. Now? Now you're willingly nursing a stranger's baby."

"I'm a mother now," she snapped. "I'm not going to let a child suffer simply because she isn't _mine_."

Fiyero took a step back, but still smiled. Elphaba was like one of those mama bears he'd seen in the Vinkus growing up. Fierce, loyal, and willing to do anything to protect her young.

Elphaba's face softened as she turned her gaze to the little towhead girl. "Besides," she continued, "I think it would be good for Liir to have a sibling. Someone his age he can play with and relate to. Don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know. I was an only child."

Elphaba's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? I thought all royal families tried to produce at least two heirs, in case something happened to one of them…"

"I'd rather not talk about that right now. I'd like things to stay positive, for them." He nodded toward the infants.

Elphaba nodded, storing that topic of conversation away for later. She looked down at the baby girl again. "She's hungry, like she hasn't eaten in days." She frowned. "You don't think she was neglected do you?"

There was a pang in Fiyero's chest at the thought of anyone mistreating his…er, this little girl. "If she was, I'll kill them," he said seriously.

"What's her name?"

"He said he called her Nor."

"Oh," Elphaba's face fell.

"Why? What is it?"

"It's just…she reminds me of someone, that's all."

"Oh." _Glinda,_ he thought. Little Nor made him think of their friend as well. He knew Glinda had no children, though. It was just the blonde curls that brought about the resemblance.

"Nor is a nice name," Elphaba smiled.

Fiyero smiled at his family. Made of straw or not, he had everything he needed right now in this moment, and he would fight to keep it that way.

* * *

Boq nodded his greeting to the guard as he began his walk down the emerald hallways leading to Glinda's chambers. The word around town was that she had fallen ill with grief at the anniversary of her beloved's death. She was receiving no visitors, save Boq.

Chistery answered the door to her suite when he knocked.

Bog nodded to the Primate. "Good morning, Chistery. How is she?" he asked somberly.

"Sad. Hurts," Chistery answered in his limited vocabulary. They crossed through the suite together.

Tilsy answered the door when Chistery knocked. "Oh, Master Boq, thank Oz you're here," she spoke nervously. She turned and announced, "Miss Glinda, Master Boq has arrived."

"Boq? Boq, you came back." Glinda smiled from her bed. She was pale in the morning sun.

Boq stepped closer to the bed, but not too close. He was still furious with Glinda for abandoning her own child. "Not for long," he stated. "I simply wanted to let you know… it's done."

Glinda averted her eyes. "You've been gone some time, Boq. Was it really so difficult?"

The Munchkin shuttered. He had never heard Glinda so cold and detached before. "Was it difficult to find a place that would take the child in without asking too many questions? Where I felt she would be safe? Where I felt she would have an upbringing I felt she actually deserved? Yes, Miss Glinda, it really was 'so difficult.'"

"Boq," she turned to face him with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

His resolve crumbled just a little. "I call her Nor." He knew it was cruel. Glinda had not named the child so that this entire situation could be just that bit less painful for her. He knew that by giving her child a name he had hurt her.

She mouthed the child's name silently. "Must you go?" she asked.

"I've neglected my farm and other duties in Munchkinland for too long now. It is time for me to go. Good day, Miss Glinda." He bowed and turned to leave.

"Boq!" she cried out as he reached the door. Reluctantly he turned. "Boq, please, I need you. You're all I have left now."

"Whose fault is that?" he asked before turning and leaving for good.


	10. Time Goes By

_Woohoo! The next installment of "Bridges Crossed" is up and finally where I want it to be so as to really move forward! Please R&R!_

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* * *

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Two years passed. The passing of each season saw many changes. In the Emerald City many of the Wizard's bans were lifted from the Animal community, thanks to Glinda the Good. Though abolishing prejudice in the provinces proved more difficult, Glinda's Animal Education program was helping Animals to relearn speech and language so as to stand up for themselves more effectively.

Glinda had always been popular, but her popularity only grew after the Wizard's departure. Not only had she begun to reinstate Animal Rights, she had improved relations with the workers' unions thereby improving working conditions in Oz's factories and mines. Her power over the people had grown to such extremes that there were rumors she was Ozma returned to her rightful position as Queen of Oz. Others believed she was Lurline Incarnate, sent to save the citizens of Oz from the fires of the Time Dragon. Whatever the story there was no doubt in the hearts of the people that Glinda was Good.

Munchkinland too was beginning to stabilize. Out of the chaos that ensued after thedeath of the Wicked Witch of the East, one leader had emerged triumphant. No females remaining in the family, Shell Thropp had assumed the title of Eminent Thropp. Like his sister he ruled with an iron fist, but this time they loved him for it. The Munchkins decided they favored fascism and full bellies to anarchy and famine. His Eminence's enthusiastic conversion to Unionism also swayed the people in his favor. The righteous son of a minister could do no wrong, they believed.

Meanwhile, in the wilds of the west, the Arjiki tribe had been nearly wiped out by the Yunamata and Scrow tribes. It was a somber day when the news of the Arjiki king's death reached the Cloister of St. Glinda.

Fiyero was repairing the old tool shed in the garden.

"Papa! Papa!" a little voice shrieked.

Fiyero smiled to see Nor, her blonde curls bouncing, running to him with a handful of flowers in her tiny fist. He squatted down to her level.

"What's that you've got?" he asked.

"Flow'as," she proceeded to stick the stems through the weave of his burlap skin, covering him with flowers.

The Scarecrow chuckled. "Making Papa pretty?"

"Pop'lar," the toddler giggled and nodded.

Seeing Elphaba approach he grinned at his commonwealth wife. "She's making me popular."

"Fiyero…" Elphaba's voice was tight. Her hands trembled as she clutched a newspaper in her thin green hands.

Fiyero immediately grew serious. "Fae, what is it?"

Silently, she handed him th paper. She watched as he read the news of his father's death.

"I'm so sorry, Yero." She touched his arm but he flinched away. Elphaba knew better than to follow him yet. He was too proud to show his pain. They had that in common.

"Papa's sad," her adopted daughter spoke quietly.

Elphaba gave her a small smile. "Yes, Papa's sad." She picked the girl up.

"Pop'lar," Nor stated again, placing a flower in her hair.

Elphaba froze for a moment as she remembered a night when another girl with blonde curls had beflowered her in an attempt to make her popular. _But that was a lifetime ago_, she told herself and shook it off.

"As long as Mama's popular with you, my pretty," she smiled warmly before proceeding to the kitchen to feed her children.

* * *

It had been days since Elphaba had seen Fiyero and it worried her. By day he had locked himself in the catacombs. She now watched from her window as he worked in the garden by torchlight.

She knew practically nothing about his family. What she did know was that families could be complicated. Her own family had taught her that. Now she had a new family, though. Despite her wishes, Liir was so much like her it was obnoxious at times. He had her dark hair and his eyes were an emerald green, though richer than her own skin pigmentation. His volatile temper and extreme stubbornness eliminated the question of whether or not he was her son. Elphaba thanked Oz that he at least had Fiyero's bone structure and handsome features.

Nor was another story entirely. Although adopted, there was no denying her eyes were the same blue Fiyero's had been when he was human. She had his cheery nature and carefree attitude as well, which bonded father and daughter very closely.

Kissing each child on the forehead, Elphaba crept out the door and made her way out to the garden.

"Yero, come in please." There was no response. "The children miss you. I miss you."

Fiyero stopped his work. "You miss me? _You _miss _me_. How do you think my people feel? They need me and I'm powerless to help."

"Oh," Elphaba was taken aback. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know I'm here for you. I understand you're mourning for your father."

"I don't give a shit about my father. He was a bastard who couldn't care less about his own family, not if we didn't meet his expectations anyway."

Elphaba winced. She knew something of unconditional love amongst family.

"He was a good ruler, though. My tribe was in good hands with him," he continued. "Now… now there's no one capable to lead them."

"You could," Elphaba stated.

A humorless chuckle escaped Fiyero's lips. "Suppose I possess the leadership skills necessary to save my people, suppose I was half the king my father was. Look at me, Fae. Only you recognize me. The Arjiki tribe will not accept a Scarecrow as their leader."

"Then we'll make them," Elphaba countered. "We'll make them see that you _are _Fiyero Tigelaar, heir to the Arjiki throne. Burlap and straw can't change that."

Fiyero glowered in the torchlight. "It changes everything," he sneered before abandoning his chores and leaving Elphaba with the cool night air for company.

Elphaba did not sleep a wink the rest of the night. She had to do something. Fiyero needed to be with his people right now and it was her fault he couldn't be. She raided the Mauntery's library. Their books on magic were limited and often critical of the craft, but there were a few gems among them. Elphaba stole away with them and studied the by candlelight in her chambers till dawn. It was of no use. The Grimmerie had been a magic book like no other. If Elphaba was going to fix what she had done, she was going to need help.

Once she had gotten the children dressed she hoisted them on Sister Cook to feed them and made her way to Sister Doctor's offices. She barged in without knocking.

"I need your help."

* * *

Shell walked the halls of Colwell Grounds in silence. The sound of his shoes on the marble floors alone echoed on the walls. Everything was going according to plan. The other eminences had been abolished and he now ruled Munchkinland as the Eminent Thropp. His staged "rebirth" into Unionism had gone exceedingly well. As the son of a Unionist minister he knew very well how to talk the talk. Half of Munchkinland now believed him to be a saint and prophet sent to them by the Unnamed God.

Shell smirked at the irony. He held all the cards now and it was time to play them. He had already sent a messenger to the Emerald City. It was only a matter of time now before he heard back from the Palace.

As if on cue, a rather short Munchkin servant scurried down the hall to Shell.

"Your Eminence," he bowed deeply. "Master Loxpur has returned from the Emerald City."

"See him to my study. I will receive him shortly."

Shell ambled into the study a few minutes later. "I trust you have good news for me, my little Lox."

Loxpur smirked. He was a smarmy little Munchkin who fancied himself to be of the highest social ranks. His red curls were over-greased and his garments were clearly second-hand.

"Indeed, your Eminence," he bowed. Unrolling a scroll he read, " 'To the Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland. I thank you for the generous gifts of corn and grain from your personal fields. On behalf of the citizens of Oz I would like to express my gratitution to you and your people for providing the most essential staples of food to your fellow men, women and Animals throughout Oz. It is with great honor that I invite you to the annual Spring Ball at the Emerald Palace, with a private reception the following day. We have arranged for your accommodations at the Palace and wish you safe travels from Munchkinland. Signed, Her Goodliness Glinda Upland of the Upper Uplands.'"

Shell grinned. "Excellent work, Loxpur. Soon enough we will be right where we need to be. Her Goodliness, though well-intentioned, has led the people of Oz astray with her love of magic. Only love of the Unnamed God can truly set them free. It is my calling to educate her Goodliness in the error of her ways and set her on the path of righteousness."

"Indeed, your Eminence."

"You may go, Loxpur." The Munchkin bowed and exited the study. Shell chuckled. "This is going to be easier than I thought."


End file.
